Rebound
by TequeezzyBoBeezy
Summary: This is what many wanted. But did anybody ever think about how it would affect Elliot? I did.
1. Goodbye

**So, ya know, we all want to kill that bitch whore Dani Beck. Die, bitch, die! (This is just for fun, btw. I actually respect her and I hope she's somewhere happy-far away from Elliot.) Enjoy?**

 **Rebound**

* * *

He was having a hard time letting her go. His wife of 20+ years left him. Olivia, his partner, his best friend, left him. His children had repeatedly expressed their harsh feelings toward him. Then he met this woman-

This woman filled with zeal. A little rough around the edges she was, but she had the right stuff. Or so he thought. She was new. Her attitude, however off-putting it was in the beginning, was raw. It made him proud to have a new partner who could compare to-

She was familiar and a breath of fresh air. And she was attractive. She was blue eyes, blonde hair, sweet, bold, action-packed, and driven. They had a common goal: put the scumbags away and put the victims on the path to healing. She was everything he used to have except she was an option. They had no history, no memories, and no little voice telling them they couldn't. The only difference is that she couldn't handle his world. The only one who was everything he needed and could survive SVU was-

Gone.

And she probably wasn't coming back. Why should she? He was a dick to her. He recognized how frighteningly close they were and rejected all of it. He tried to stop caring. He pushed her away when all she did was meet her love equally with his. It was not her fault that they both cared so deeply. What he wouldn't give to take back every wrong thing he said to her. He had the best intentions. Perhaps she did, too, in leaving.

Nevertheless, he was at a bar having to say goodbye to Blue-eyed Boldness. Dani Beck. They were both outwardly quiet, shouting on the inside, though. While he was quite possibly projecting, she was genuinely feeling romantic feelings for him. Elliot was, of course, a little rough around the edges, but he matched her in power. She saw him as a male version of herself and was completely infatuated with him. But she couldn't stay with SVU. If she had to close another case with a victim not on the road to recovery she'd-

She'd fall apart if she had to take her chances with more "special victims." So she had to leave SVU, which meant that she had to leave Elliot. She had to go back to Warrants, another unit, in a world that makes sense, that balances.

Elliot sat facing her in his stool, absorbing the impact little by little. He checked his watch. "What time is it," she asked, for she had seen him in her peripheral that time and twice before.

"Coming up on 10."

She didn't have anything to say. She just took another swig of her beer and stared stoically at the lowering surface line of the bottle's contents. But he looked at her, occasionally glancing away, fearing that his affections were no longer reciprocated in her eyes, which she was keeping hidden from him.

"What's next, ya think?"

"I don't know. Just more bad guys."

"And fewer victims," he asked, but making more of a statement than an inquiry.

Finally, she faced him, her nose flaring, her skin pinkening around her nostrils. "I've asked you already if you want me to stay." She started on her beer again.

"I can't _ask_ you to stay. This unit isn't for everybody. I've been doing this for so many years-"

"And look at you," she ordered, her voice finding a new pitch, "I mean, do you think you'd be happier somewhere else? Don't ya think you'd still be with your wife if you were in some other unit?"

"This is where I need to be, Dani. If you're asking me to follow you out, then I can't. It's a tough job, but somebody's got to do it. With the right partner it's- it's-"

"She must've really been something," said Dani, with undertones of jealousy and spite.

She returned her eyes to her bottle, now empty.

"I tried," she whispered.

"I know ya did."

Suddenly, his radio came alive. It was a 10-13. An officer down, drop everything and haul tail. So that's what they did, her right behind him. They rushed out the bar's entrance and scrambled into the squad car. Elliot raced only a few blocks away before they spotted two uniforms in the middle of the street. One of them was injured and limping in the direction the suspect fled. The other cop was trying to ease him to the pavement to wait for help. The car came to a screeching halt and Elliot and Dani got out and checked on the two.

"SVU detectives! How's he doing," asked Elliot, out of breath from adrenaline, pressure, and stress.

"He got shot in the stomach. I'm trying to get him to wait for an ambulance," said the baby-faced man, likely a rookie.

Dani immediately radioed a bus, as if they hadn't realized the urgency when the first call was made. The more experienced uni grumbled something, pointing ahead, and finally collapsed, his body giving out on him. Elliot ordered the rookie to stay with the injured officer and apply pressure to the gunshot wound. He waved a hand at Dani as he began to take off in the direction of the armed suspect. She was right behind him. It felt like she was flying, very light on her feet. She felt like a feather. Yet, for some reason, Elliot was ahead of her. She's always had more speed and endurance than him. And she felt like a jet. But he had a good couple feet on her.

A cop was down. A man was probably gonna get away armed and dangerous and back among the innocents of the city. Dani was usually right there with him, actually ahead of him was more like it, so he never stopped to think that he had to worry about her. Besides, she could hold her own, much like Olivia. He didn't need to hold her hand through a foot chase. She knew what she was doing. She wasn't exactly wet behind the ears. But when he decided he was chasing a ghost he put on the brakes. Huffing and looking into the dark distance, he called back, "He's long gone. Let's get back to the scene."

No answer.

When he spun himself around he realized he was alone. But how can that be? She was right behind him.

 _Pop! Poppoppoppop! Poppop!_

Every cell in his body jumped after just the first crack in the silence. All he thought was "Dani." He took off, chasing the receding sound of the gunshots. Not far back he came upon an alleyway where he saw a man wearing a dark hoodie standing over a lethargic mass sliding down the side of a garbage disposal. "Dani."  
He couldn't draw his weapon any faster if he tried but just as soon as he brought it up to eyelevel the suspect had vanished. "Dani!" He ran to her as fast as he could. The garbage could hardly cover the smell of her blood and the stale booze that clung to the fabric of her clothes and lingered still on her lips. He knelt down and drew his radio to his mouth. "Got an officer down! 10-13! Two officers down! I need another bus immediately at an alleyway off, uh, Bradley Street!" She clutched his arm with both of her hands, gripped them with all the life she had left, and yanked him down to her.

Between groans and gurgling sounds she spoke very vital words as loudly and clearly as she could. "Gray- gray hair! Brown eyes! Uuuunnngghh! Soul- soul-"

"Dani, no," he said, trying to be calm, not emotional, "Hang in there. A bus is on the way-"

"Soul-"

"Don't try to talk. Just breathe. Just breathe for me, okay? Hang in there."

"Sou-"

Then she stopped trying to talk. Then he couldn't feel her heart pounding through the bullet hole under the pressure of his hands. Her chest's violent rising and falling ceased. Her words died on her lips.

"Dani?"

He sniffed mucous away from the ends of his nose nostrils and his red-rimmed eyes went from terrified to...

Hopeless. And he stopped begging her to "hang in there." She was dead.

* * *

 **I actually don't feel good about killing her. But, anyway, the bitch had to go! LoL, jkjk. Dani's cool, ya know. But there's gonna be trouble on the way. Trouble for Elliot. You'd think Dani dying like this would be trouble enough, but, ya know, it's SVU. And in Elliot's little world everything is his fault. So, he's alone again and not in a good place with himself. And now heat's gonna be coming down on him. How's this gonna go away? We'll see.**

 **PS: Y'all should go vote in the poll I have up on my profile and I'm gonna have another one up, too. And I'm gonna update _Floodgates_ and _Do the right thing_ tomorrow.**

 _ **Happy voting and, of course, Happy reviewing!**_


	2. Waiting

**I'm not completely sure what to do with this story. I'm wingin' it. Leh go!**

 **Rebound**

* * *

"Detective Stabler, were you not on duty the night of Detective Beck's death?"

"I was."

"You both were."

"Yes. With about twenty minutes left," he argued, clearly agitated.

"But on duty nonetheless. You broke protocol."

"By the time we were leaving the bar we had passed ten minutes. Now that leaves us with only ten minutes-enough time to drop the squad car off and clock out."

"How much had you had to drink," asked Agent Tucker so speedily that Elliot hadn't even had time to draw another breath after his last word.

"I ordered myself one beer, but I only had a couple sips," he snapped back on little air.

"What about Beck?"

He kept his hard, blue eyes on Agent Tucker's, nonverbally daring him to make such insinuations as well as begging him in the most dignified, manly of ways not to.

"Dani's dead-"

"How much, Detective Stabler?"

He forced his oncoming anger back down and replied with as little emotion as possible. "I don't keep track of other people's drinks."

"So, more than two," Tucker shot back matter-of-factly.

"Like I said," he said, his voice rising, "I wasn't keeping track."

Tucker flipped a couple pages in the folder he had before him before stopping on one. Then he turned it and slid it in front of Elliot who was sitting across the table from him and Tucker rose from his seat a bit to lean over the table. "Read it," he ordered with fire in his voice and a finger pointing somewhere on the paper. Elliot sat back and kept his eyes on Tucker. So Tucker filled him in, quite versed in the facts. "She had three beers that night within the span of twenty minutes. Would you like to see her blood alcohol level?" Elliot shook his head. "No." Tucker left the folder in front of Elliot and returned to normal sitting position. "How close were you to Detective Beck?" Elliot continued staring into Tucker's soulless eyes, maintaining his innocent composure, refusing to falter. But Tucker could see that every muscle in Elliot's face was solid and strained so as not to physically react to the tension and emotions that must've been clouding Elliot's mind.

"How do you mean?"

"Did you have anyyyyy... romantic feelings for Detective Beck."

"Our work relationship was very professional."

"'Work relationship,'" he stoically mocked, "Don't play with me, Detective Stabler." His voice was giving off a multitude of authoritative energy. Tucker was on the hunt and he had his prey cornered. But he had no interest in playing with the mouse. He was ready for dinner. "You and your partner were both on duty. You decided to go to a bar where you let her get hammered. Then you responded to a 10-13 and you made the very lethal mistake of letting your inebriated partner partake in a foot chase, knowing the suspect was armed and dangerous and had already made an attempt on the life of a fellow officer. You're in trouble, Stabler. You've really done it this time. We've been itching for you. You keep stepping in your own shit, Detective, and now we're going to nail your ass to the wall. And when you're hanging up there, you'll want to think about IAB, you'll want to curse our name. Don't you dare. You only have yourself to blame."

With that Elliot sat up and rested his elbows on the table. "You feel good about yourself, don't you," he asked, his head tilted down but looking into Tucker's cold stare. Tucker got up and before leaving, turned to say that the investigation has only begun. Then he walked out the door, leaving Elliot there with the folder. He let his head fall into his hands and trembled with fear for the future but did not cry. Not yet.

 **On the way to an Oregon airport**

"You sure you can't go any faster than this," asked an agitated Olivia.

"Want me to drive on the sidewalk?"

She inhaled deeply, trying to force herself to accept the fact that she won't get back to NY any faster than traffic will allow her to get to the airport. To help, she pulled out her phone (the FBI had finally given it back to her and reconnected the service).

"So, he's your best friend, huh?"

Porter's instigative question induced a grin across Olivia's face. He snuck a peak over at her before returning his eyes to the road. "Ya know, not all coworkers flirt with their female counterparts."

"Oh, yeah," he asked, teasingly.

She put her phone down in her lap and gave him her full attention, still smiling. "Did you know that?" He met her gaze and said, "I do now."

"Good," she said, having successfully defused Porter's mission to incite what could be a rather steamy love affair. She picked her phone back up and continued playing with it but her mind stayed on Porter. He was a good-looking man. A good agent. _"_ _It could work_ ," she thought to herself. But something repelled her from him. Like pushing two magnets together on the wrong sides. She thought, " _Why wouldn't it work_ _? He's familiar with the kind of job I do-kinda. And we're obviously attracted to each other. But..._ " Her train of thought came to a screeching hault. There's always _something_ with these guys. Any guy she considers. And the guys she dates. She's beginning to think she's just been making excuses. Excuses not to stay with these men. She likes them well enough and they treat her well enough. Her needs are met and it's fun to actually be a woman with somebody. Day in and day out she's surrounding by men and she's Detective Benson before she's Olivia. With Elliot, she's called Olivia, Liv, but she's not that with him. Not wholly. He's seen her crack. They're best friends. He's the only best friend she's ever had . He knows everything about her, _even the parts she'd like to forget_. He's hurt her, been negligent, been self absorbed, and made her feel like a sub-species of human because she doesn't have a family, no husband, no children, and cannot maintain a steady relationship. _He's the longest relationship she's ever had with a man_. He means so much to her and, not just that, but he's a symbol to her. He's comforted her, fought for her, gave her a connection she didn't even know she'd been needing her entire life, he's been a safe place to stow her secrets away. He symbolizes everything a man should be. And she can only enjoy a small portion of him. What else does she need, though?

"How long has he been your partner again?"

"Umm. Eight years," she blandly responded, no longer interested in the conversation. He looked over to see her looking at her phone, not really pressing many buttons. She was sitting comfortably in the passenger seat, sunken low in her seat, leaning against the door enough to where Porter couldn't even see the screen of her phone or the light it emitted. "Is that who you're texting now?"

"Nope."

She wasn't lying. But she wasn't telling the truth. It depends on how you define now. What exactly is now. Is it when he asks or is it when she answers. In truth, she'd just sent Elliot a text: " _I'm taking a flight back soon. Keep everything with Chelsea under control - Liv._ " She kept that up on her screen with the three texts she'd received from him long ago.

" _Liv, what's going on?_ "

" _I'm really sorry, Olivia. I was out of line. I take blame for everything."_

 _"Are you safe? Please get in touch."_

When Porter asked who she was texting she immediately opened a blank message to ADA Novak and started typing. " _I'll be on a flight back real soon. Tell Chelsea I'm on my way._ " The sudden urgency shook her from an emotional trance. She willed the excess water in her eyes to dry and forced herself to give the shortest, strongest, most emotionless one-word answer to Porter's question. Then she cleared her throat.

"Well, I'm sure he can't wait to see you," said Porter, implicative.

"Because I'm so annoying," she sarcastically responded.

He didn't say anything more for the rest of the uneventful car ride. As for Olivia, she stared at her message conversation with Elliot, waiting for a reply. Waiting. But it never came. And she eventually had to board the plan destined for New York without complete surety that her return would be warmly received. There are too many times where nobody quite knows where she and Elliot stand.

* * *

 **I remember when she got back after Dani left... He was such a dick to her-it was unbelievable. It made me so mad. But she was patient, bruh, and didn't smack the taste out his mouth like she should've. Elliot's acted like a child sometimes. But he always made it up in the best way, right (the kidney line, first hug in Paternity)?**

 **Anyway, please review. Tell me what you love, what you hate. Also, don't forget that there's a poll up on my profile for y'all to do.**

 _ **Happy** **reviewing!**_


	3. Fall from the fall from glory

**Let's get going...**

 **Rebound**

* * *

She found it odd that he still had not messaged her back by the time she touched ground. She got this dark, overwhelming feeling that there was no salvaging this partnership or friendship. She wanted so much just to scream at him "I love you, you bastard! She wanted to feel the sting on her hand from slapping him across his stubborn face. Why did they have to be so difficult? Why was their relatiionship so damn complex? _We're so complicated,_ she thought to herself as she reached the gate. On the other side of the gate was the airport, which reminded her that she was back in NYC. And it reminded her that her time away from - avoiding - Elliot was coming to an end. **There was so much to fear, so much to be had.** The priority: preserve whatever friendship they have left. A life without Elliot in it would be... lonely. She'd stepped off to the side to compose herself when she heard a female voice calling out to her. It was Alex Cabot trotting up to her, obviously relieved to have finally drawn her attention.

"Olivia, didn't you hear me calling you," she asked, her face full of concern and confusion. Olivia snapped out of it with the gentle squeeze Alex gave her arm. "Yeah," she lied, still coming out of it, "I'm fine."

"I don't know if I believe that. You look a million miles away."

"Well," she confessed, "Because I am."

Olivia was beginning to step forward when Alex jumped ahead and faced her. "You are okay to testify in court, right?"

"Yes. Of course. Come on, Alex, you know me."

Alex wanted to believe that. But how much does she really know about Detective Olivia Benson? What are her stress behaviors? Are they close enough that Olivia would give her the chance to be a friend when she needs one. Like now when the one most important person in her life is not fully in her life at all. "Good," she nodded, "Because it's very urgent." However offensive it was, she had to be sure to stress the importance of Olivia's testimony, that she be mentally ready to go into a courtroom full of ears and eyes. That the pressure wouldn't cause her to make a mistake on the stand that could fracture the case.

"I know," stressed Olivia.

To save herself from seeming like a jerk when Olivia is obviously not okay she gave her a subtle smile. "Okay," she said, less strained than her previous words, "Come on. I'll drive you to the station. I can catch you up there. Then tomorrow you're on the stand." On the ride there Olivia was disappointed that Alex wasn't the kind of driver who at least used the radio for a little ambience. It was uncomfortable, feeling so lost and needing to think with a close colleague in her presence. Small talk was inevitable.

"So," started Alex, "Are you allowed to talk about your big 'undercover op?'" Olivia chuckled softly. "Don't worry. I've got some stories for ya." They shared a relaxed smile before Alex turned her eyes back to the road. Then Olivia had a question fighting its way up from the depths of her anxious gut. "Anything new back at the precinct?" It was undeniable, what Olivia's eyes witnessed then. Alex tensed. She got nervous. She isn't a timid person. As a matter of fact, she's got sizeable balls, which has made her an SVU favorite. She was even avoiding Olivia's stare, checking the rearview and side mirrors before glancing over and back at the road her eyes went again.

"What, Alex?"

"Everybody's been okay," she half-lied, half-truthed, "Everybody's gonna be happy to see you, I'm sure."

"Alex. I want the truth."

"What? Do you mean Elliot? How's he been?"

"Alex, stop lawyering me," Olivia said, becoming agitated.

"So Elliot?"

"Sure," she confessed.

Alex cleared her throat and gripped the steering wheel tightly. She really wanted to suggest that Olivia wait till they're at the station. Or better yet wait to hear it from someone else. But that would just aggravate the intense situation and she thought about how important it is that Olivia know because even though she and Elliot aren't partners anymore, they always will be loyal to one another. Besides, it'd be better for her to know what she's in for before her official return is commenced.

"Elliot's had it rough since you disappeared on him - us."

Olivia felt like she was gonna hurl. Her stomach collapsed and began to swish and swirl like a washing machine. Her head, it began to space.

"With his first partner, I hear he just couldn't. His second partner and him were fine eventually, though-"

"How many partners has he gone through," Olivia interrupted, worried and in distress (but keeping it mainly under control).

"Just two," said Alex, almost in a whisper.

"I don't understand what you mean."

"There was an accident and his partner was killed. But he's okay."

Olivia turned back to face straight ahead again, propping her head on her arm against the window. "As far as you can tell," she mumbled.

"There's more, Olivia."

She gave her attention to Alex again, exhausted for Elliot.

"IAB."

That's all she had to say.

 **Squad room**

Olivia strode a couple paces ahead of Alex. On the elevator she didn't speak a word or even look at Alex; Alex was patient, not attempting to force Olivia to think rationally. _Ding._ She flew out of the elevator toward the squad room where she received a warm welcome from Fin and Munch. Their smiles immediately faded when they saw her stern expression.

"Where's Elliot," she asked. Nothing. Fin had dropped his jaw as if he were about to respond but he lost his words. She strode steady ahead into Cragen's office, no knocking, no greeting. "Where's Elliot," she asked - no, demanded. He was stunned, appalled. Had she really just stormed into his office and demand answers from him? Treat him like a suspect? Give _him_ an order? He opened his mouth to scold her, seeing as she gave him no choice but to leap from sympathetic straight to mercilessly authoritative but she cut him off.

"Don't toy with me, damnit!"

He slammed his fist down upon his desk, causing a picture frame to fall over. "Have a seat," he yelled. Needless to say, he had gotten her to come back to her senses, but she still wanted to be hardheaded, staying on her feet in defiance but closing the door behind her for privacy. She was certainly coming down from her rage but Cragen was not. He could be a very stern, seemingly apathetic man when called for.

"I said sit down," he shouted with great volume in his voice, overthrowing her defiance, "Now!" She complied, parking herself in a chair and looking anywhere but into his fatherly, mercilessly authoritative gaze. She crossed one leg over the other and crossed her arms all the while biting away tears. "Now," Cragen began, immediately calmer than when she had disrespected his ranking of captain, "you wanna try that again? Without the teenage rage, rebel attitude, and elementary pout?" She uncrossed her limbs and transformed back into an adult.

"Where is he," she asked in a respectful tone.

"He's been suspended while IAB investigates him in the death of his partner."

"Why," she asked, her voice trying to rise.

"Look, Liv, it's not looking good for Elliot right now. Off the record he made a real bad mistake and he's in boiling hot water because of that."

"Are you saying it's his fault?" She couldn't believe the words leaving his mouth. She knew Elliot. He'd have done anything for her to protect her. She knows he wouldn't let anything happen to any partner of his. Especially a woman. She was herself appalled at his absurdity. How could he even entertain the idea that Elliot did something to cause his partner's death? She stepped out of her seat and back away from his desk, glaring down at this crazy man. He shot up and swiftly walked over to her.

"I'm saying he messed up. He made a mistake that led to the death of a fellow detective. But you know that I'm gonna stand by him no matter which way this thing swings. Like I would for any of you. Like I have done for him before! You know me better than to think that."

"With all due respect, Captain, I know Elliot," she said as she turned to leave. She pulled at the door but Cragen's hand slammed it back into the frame. She turned to see his face right next to hers. It was near expressionless. "Take the week off, Olivia," he ordered. She searched his face for any sign of a bluff or any leeway. She found nothing but Cragen and nothing which didn't characterize him.

"Why," she asked, keeping her rising anger from boiling over.

"So I don't have to suspend you without pay, that's why."

It threatened to seep from her skin, the anger. She swung the door open and started but he grabbed hold of her arm because he wasn't done. He pulled her close enough to hear but far enough away that her space was not violated. He discreetly said, "Don't you ever disrespect me in my house again." He let her loose and she walked forcefully past Munch, Fin, and Cabot till she was out of the squad room and out of the 16th precinct.

 **FBI headquarters**

He was being bailed out. The first emotion he felt at the news was not joy or relief. Not even confusion. He knows how far Cragen will go for him. He knows Cragen will stand in a room full of career-killers and profess Elliot's worthiness. So he felt worthless. All this trust and love wasted on him, he thought to himself. Over and over he's disappointed people. He can't get everything right like he's supposed to. He can't get anything right. Yet his captain, _his_ captain was putting 25K down for him. That's love. "I don't deserve it," he kept thinking over and over as an agent marked down a checklist of all the things that were in Elliot's possession at the time of his arrest as he handed them back to him. "I don't deserve this." He walked out of the door and it was near night. It had been so bright inside the building he had lost track of time. Besides, he thought he'd be there until a trial, that is, if he didn't just plea it down. But when he walked out that door one thing was for sure. It wasn't Captain waiting for him.

"What're you doing here," he asked Olivia as he stopped a few feet away from the squad car. She got up from leaning against the passenger door and approached him. Her strut had a hint of anger - it was fierce. But she wasn't exactly angry. She felt like he had lodged a knife into her side. And twisted it with the whole "what're you doing here." She gestered her hands out to the sides, palms facing him, in a question.

She said, "I wanna hear from you what happened that night." His head turned away. He just didn't wanna do this and that was evident in the dismissive sigh that left his lungs. He rubbed a hand down the length of his face. What was she even doing there? She left him. She didn't want to be partners anymore. She... left. "Look, I don't know where you got $25,000 but I'm gonna pay you back," he said, still not moving towards the car. Still not meeting her eyes. "Oh yeah? With what? You were just gonna sit in here, weren't you? What, you're too afraid to tell your wife you're on the chopping block?" He didn't answer and she wanted to take that as a confirmation. "You're always on the chopping block. Why didn't you call Kathy, Elliot? Put the house up?"

"Because Kathy doesn't need to know," he snapped, finally looking into her eyes with fire in his own.

"What the hell do you mean she doesn't need to know? You're separated but I'd still wanna know if I were her. Like I wanna know now and we're not... partners." There was a moment of silence where neither of them spoke. Elliot didn't want to give himself away. Olivia wasn't sure what to say next after she'd spoken those last, hard-hitting words. _Not... partners._ "I don't understand, Elliot, why you'd rather sit in a cell instead of talk to your wife when you're gonna be cleared one way or another." Her voice was quiet, soft. It was empathetic and feeling. It was reaching out to him. He had no choice but to respond just as calmly. But his voice contained more fear. He said to her, "I might not be cleared." Her eyebrows edged inward. What does he mean? Did he really mess up that bad? _I should've been here_. Ironic. She should've been there for him when he's not the one whose back needed watching. "Elliot," she whispered, stepping closer to him, "What did you do?" He shook his head, jaw clenched, fists clenched.

He chooses his partner over the job: error.

He chooses the job over his partner: error.

His life: error.

He's the only link between all of his many failed partnerships. This one ending in death... that's his end. "Elliot, why wouldn't you be cleared for this?"

"My... my mind was clouded that night. I wasn't myself. She died because I can't control my damn emotions."

He was a word away from actually crying. She knows how strong he likes to be. Especially for her. She knows he doesn't want not one tear falling for her eyes to see. So she pulled him into a close, tight embrace. She gripped his shoulder from around his neck with one hand and the other soothingly massaged the nape of his neck. After the initial four-second shock of being pulled into a hug by the woman he was sure he'd never see again for the rest of his life was over he returned the hug strongly. Always there for him. He didn't deserve this. She'd never let him down. She tightenned her hold on him when he first sniffled, squeezing his body closer to hers. It was almost wonderful to smell her hair again, to have her surround his senses. Almost wonderful except he couldn't stop thinking about the road ahead. He repeated it through the strands of her hair.

"I might not be cleared."

* * *

 **Man. Okay, I hope y'all are okay with this. Again, I've been super swamped so forgive me for the delay. Believe me, if I could say screw school and just write I probably would. But I don't wanna be poor for the rest of my life.**

 **What do y'all think about Elliot's state of mind at this point? I think I've got him pretty much falling apart. What do y'all think should happen with him and Olivia eventually? Bensler fans, holla if you're out there! Or perhaps I should just repair their friendship because he's having one heck of a time and romance may be too much for him right now?**

 **Did you like Cragen bringing the hammer down because I sure as hell did. Idk but I love seeing Cragen's emotions flare, whether is be anger or disturbance. Or if he's just being affectionate in his own way. He really is the father Elliot AND Olivia could've used growing up except he was probably still an alcoholic then. But that's a whole 'nother story. Or fic? Idk.**

 _ **Happy reviewing, guys!**_


	4. It all comes down to Fault

**Kinda excited about my ideas about where this story should go. But for now...**

 **Rebound**

* * *

They stopped at a red light. Olivia's hands gripped the steering wheel tightly. How does she even begin to be there for him? There has never really been a need for her - she's always needed him. Now the tables have turned and she doesn't exactly know how to give him a stable ground to stand on. Or at least she didn't know how to do it on purpose; this would obviously take effort that she didn't need to apply before. Their mutual reliance was once so easy. Things are different now. He's not the same man she remembers from before she left. Before Gitano. Before everything that's ever caused a shift in their heavily linked worlds. He hasn't said a word the whole ride. She couldn't even hear him breathing. She glanced over at him; he was just looking out the windshield. His face was not one of a worried man but one of a disturbed man. It's like he'd been so emotional that his heart shut down. He seriously could no longer handle feeling. As if he ever could, though.

"No," he said in a still, raspy voice, "the cribs'll be fine."

She dropped her jaw. She'd driven him all the way to his home hoping he'd at least try to make amends with his wife. She felt like that's where he needed to be. "El, you need to go in there and figure it out," she said sternly but there was no response other than a quiet, dismissive sigh, "You need your family."

"They don't need me," he said.

God, she couldn't help thinking he sounded like an angsty teenager. Always him; always the world against him; always somebody leaving him; always him, him, him. She wouldn't so much mind his self-centeredness if he'd actually let her in. Instead she picks up on his bitterness through half-cocked remarks and angry outbursts. She sighed, annoyed and disappointed, and drove to the precinct. She followed him into the cribs and he laid down. She stood there a moment, peering at him through the dark and, though he couldn't see her vindiction, she knew he could feel it seering into his skin. So, he wanted to just be dropped off to sleep in the crib alone. He wanted to refuse any kind of support. He wanted to push everybody away. He wanted to push Olivia away. Because in his little world of despair his pain can't matter to anyone else. So when he pushes someone away it can't hurt them. He's wrong.

He got the shock of a lifetime when he heard Olivia's body ease itself down onto the lower bunk across from him. "Fine," she said, "if this is how it's gotta be."

"Go home." He rolled his eyes in the dark.

"You're my partner. For better or worse, that's what you said and I haven't forgotten. This isn't a one-way street. You sleep here, I sleep here."

Whaddya know. Someone does care. Here's Olivia, risking her lower back for him. He's trying, he's racking his brain but he can't recall another person ever making such a gesture. Has he really gone through all these years without unconditional love?

"You're not alone. Cause I won't let you be," she finally said. "Good night," and she flipped over, her back to him.

He wanted to reach out. That hug earlier did something to him. Once somebody shows you that they care and you feel it you want to keep feeling it. You don't want to go another minute of not feeling it. She'd wrapped her arms around him and hugged him. He wanted that. That's what he needed but he just couldn't for the life of him bring himself to seek it out. That's not how he conducts himself. He sighed softly. He felt worthless. Like he didn't deserve to be alive. He'd often thought about death at times when he was away from home. When his kids behaved as if they hated him. When his wife looked at him with those blue eyes and that face of contempt. Everytime his eyes met hers whether it was during an argument or some loveless evening he asked himself if he'd ruined her life so many years ago. _He'd_ gotten her pregnant. Then left for the military. Then came back and made more responsibility for them. And joined the force, leaving her with much of the many daunting tasks of having bright, beautiful, blonde-haired, blue-eyed burdens who took up his combative attitude. She's suffered for the love of him and they both suffered for the sake of the family. But they suffered separately. Olivia always shared in his suffering, though. They were attached in some supernatural way that couldn't be unplugged. When she left there was a gaping hole in his existence. It's a wonder he didn't eat his gun after that one call where the automated voice all but told him in front of his colleagues that Olivia was, like his wife and kids, done with him.

But here she was sticking by him when he thought he'd also had enough of himself. And he wanted to be nearer to her. She was so far away, resting silently a few feet away from him, a cold, painful, hard floor separating the two.

"Are you sleep," he asked in a quiet, careful voice. She answered no without stirring. "I can't sleep either."

She turned over onto her opposite side and tucked her hands under her head. She was facing him now in a way that was confrontational but timid. Her demeanor demanded and _begged_ of him to just open up to her. She wanted to know what was going on in that head of his. If anybody should have that privelege, who other than her? "Then talk to me, El."

He mentally prepared himself under the guise of an annoyed sigh but anybody in the world could see that it was nothing other than a burdened down breath he expelled. And he'd never tell a soul that he was relieved that she was asking yet again for him to relieve his heart of his secret woes.

"Why'd you leave?"

She turned onto her back. "I told you already."

"Well, I didn't like the answer," he said, almost defensively.

"Then I don't know what to tell ya."

"Olivia. We're supposed to be closer than that. We're better than that."

"We were close... once. And we're not as good as you'd like to believe."

He sat up, bending so as not to hit his head on the top bunk. "What's that supposed to mean?" Still, she didn't stir. Her eyes just sweeped over and back to the bottom of the bunk over her.

"Something happened to us, Elliot. We cracked," she said, her voice weaking, "We were almost invincible. Then we found out that there's something that can break us. And we didn't react like _partners_. Now we're no better than the next two partners because we let ourselves get like that."

 _We_ _didn't react like partners._ What she really meant was _HE_ didn't react like a partner.

He knew that she was talking about Gitano. They were a force until that boy died. Until Elliot messed up. Until Elliot blamed Olivia with the whole precinct as an audience. When he attacked her confidence and questioned her ability to do her job which she has always done exceptionally in front of their colleague's hungry eyes. Until Gitano stuck a shotgun to the back of his head and forced Olivia to choose between causing her partner's death and letting a little girl die. When he called them screw-ups it was stab to a fresh wound in her gut. A wound Elliot had served her. And Elliot tried to take it back then and there. He told he'd made that mistake on his own. He shouldn't have blamed her that he loved her so much. He told her to take the shot, risk getting his head blown off right before here eyes. Risk being the cause of his death, the reason his children would never see their father's face again, risk taking him from his wife all over again. She'd said sorry, struggling to will her hand to squeeze the trigger but she was never gonna be able to. Besides, how the hell would she get a good shot when everything looked as if she was peering through the lenses of her eyes underwater. He'd said it's okay. His own tears were wanting to escape. He could've been thinking about his family. Or that missing girl. But all he could comprehend was Olivia in front of him, trying not to cry. All he could think about was how he'd hurt her and he'd caused this. That his last act was that of hurting the most important woman in his life. That would be his departing gift: pain. All he could think about was the state he'd be leaving her in. And there with Gitano's steel in the back of his head, he wanted nothing more but to walk forward and wipe the tears from her cheeks. Of all the things he could've done outside of the hospital room to make amends he did the worst thing he could've possibly done to her. He pushed her away. He created distance when what they both needed was to know that they still cared. That they still had each other. He'd said that they chose each other over the job and it could never happen again or else they couldn't be partners. She told him she couldn't believe he was saying that. He said that the job was all he had anymore. And _her_. And he didn't know what he'd do if he wrecked it. Like he wrecks everything else. Then he got up and walked away. And he left her sitting in that chair trying to make sense of it all, fighting more tears like the fighter life has forced her to be. She needed him then. But he wanted none of that closeness anymore. He wanted distance and safety. But that didn't mean he didn't want _her_. She eventually sucked it up and decided that he was right. They were perhaps too close. So close that his words could penetrate her thick skin and cause her to feel like less than she was. So she left to protect herself and maybe salvage whatever was left of their friendship, knowing their partnership was likely dead.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," he said.

"You didn't," she immediately lied. She refused to admit that he could affect her the way he did. She didn't want the pain that comes with loving someone, having them know that she does.

"Well," he said as he laid himself back down, "if it's all the same to you I'm sorry."

"Me, too."

They both lay on their backs. Elliot looked across to see the profile of her glorious body, her chest rising and falling gently. And the profile of her face. It looked like it could be either emotionless or stern. He always knew she put on like she was 100% tough 100% of the time but he'd seen the other side of her. He'd seen her on the verge of breaking down. She couldn't fool him. But he didn't think he was exactly allowed to poke and prod. They'd had this system that worked perfectly for them but it was only to maintain. Not to grow. Perhaps that's what killed their friendship and partnership.

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 **Sorry for logging in practically empty-handed. Exams and shit coming up. Hang on... crying...**

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 **Okay I'm back! Anyway, I hope y'all will accept this until I can decide how the plot will progress. I guess you can consider their relationship restored. Or at least back to square one *hint* *hint* Anyway, thanks for reading and sticking with this story. I have a lot of hope for it.**

 _ **Happy reviewing!**_


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